


A Mirrored Star

by ElectoMe



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 22:20:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5945275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElectoMe/pseuds/ElectoMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After her father dies in a mine explosion, Katniss is struggling attempting to keep her family afloat single handedly, but with the help of a friend and a generous star she may be able to turn her situation around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mirrored Star

The light shines through my window at nearly midnight, though I cannot be sure. I hadn't fallen asleep yet, I was nowhere near. My insomnia had reached a level where it could theoretically be somewhat worrisome, if I had it in me to care. Instead of sleeping, like everyone else in my house was. I was awake reading and rereading all the mindless novels that made up the expanse of my bookshelf. Reading was quite possibly my only escape at this point and I found myself appreciative of the generous stocking of it by my father at a time before his passing. He had a way of obtaining books and novels by doing the oddest jobs around town or finding long forgotten books whom no longer had anyone to care for them beneath dusty shelves or buried in closets. Now, I was not so thoroughly ensconced in one of my favorite fairy tales as I've read it so many times I've lost count, even so the magic is still there.

The Star Money was a children's tale, far too elementary for my teenage mind, but still I read on because this had been my father's favorite, and now it is mine.

The storyline is fairly simple, about a girl—who is poor herself—giving her last scraps away to people who were even worse off than she was. The stars, in turn, fell from the sky and knit her a gorgeous shift of the finest fabric to repay her for her selflessness. It ends with her wealthiness, she never wanted for another thing. The girl actually reminds me of my father, who gave away everything he had to us, my little sister, Prim, myself, and my sick mother, until his dying breath.

Now, though I am as ill equipped as one could possibly be, it is up to me to assume the duty he once held tightly in his capable hands. He has been gone for only a month now, and the sting of his loss is still felt heavily among the town, my family, but most of all me. I am the most like him, though we are opposite genders, in stature and in values. We have the same black hair and gray eyes and this fierce determination to protect those we love. I’m proud to be like him. My sister is only twelve, my mother has been sick with sadness since her own father's passing years ago and I, I am alone. Without my father, I truly have no one.

The money has almost run out. There's still some though, giving me a little over two weeks to think of a plan. I need a job, that is undeniable, but there aren't many people in our small town looking to hire a sixteen year old girl. I could try the bakery, but he already has three boys to look after and they all work in his shop, leaving no room for me. My friend, Peeta, is one of his sons and if worse comes to dire, then they can try to make room, but I'm sure they could spare no more than a penny at a time.

Peeta Mellark has been my best friend in the entire world since childhood. We met in kindergarten, each of us five years old at the time and I blushed after he complimented me on my voice after I sang in front of our class in music assembly.

Before my father’s passing, before I had responsibilities, I’d spend all my days at the bakery with him. I’d joke around with his brothers. The middle one, Rye always had a penchant for teasing me, but I brushed it off in stride like he was my own brother.

Peeta though, has become increasingly less like a brother and a friend and a little more like…something else. This is where Rye’s teasing has taken a turn, he notices everything and that fact only slightly irritates me.

Two weeks before the mine explosion that killed my father, I was sitting on the counter of the bakery, wiping off the flour that Peeta had smudged across my cheek when Rye came up to me, his eyes squinting in a somewhat calculating measure. His hair was longer and shaggier than Peeta’s, but other than that the two look almost exactly alike.

“How is Katniss, the light of my life?” My eyes seemed to roll of their own volition.

“Better before you came in,” I said smugly, ruffling his flour caked, blonde hair.

Peeta was across the room kneading dough on the worktable, concentrating on his work with a crease even appearing between his brows. Something broke his concentration, however, and when he glanced up, he shot a smile in my direction that made my stomach flip.

Rye noticed my expression. Thinking back on it, I was probably blushing, Peeta always seemed to do that as of late. As obvious as that embarrassing fact was, Peeta hadn’t noticed, but apparently Rye had.

“You two are idiots,” he said.

“And what excludes you from that category?”

“Because I’m not making googly eyes at my brother,” he whispered harshly. “And Peeta’s an idiot because he hasn’t noticed.”

I glared at him then glanced over at Peeta, but it seems my crush on him wasn’t the only thing that he hadn’t noticed.

Peeta was amazing. When we’d first met, he was the shy one, but somewhere along the way that person turned into me. He’s a star with his shining blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes, but my utterly average features just made me blend into the background.

I knew Peeta loved me, but he would never in the way that I loved him.

I don’t know if my embarrassment would allow me to grovel at Mr. Mellark’s doorstep.

But my only other option is the grocer, Haymitch Abernathy. A misogynist, old man, with wrinkles as deep as the ocean. I don't know him too well, but I don't think he could turn me away with my starving sister and mother, simply out of guilt.

So tonight, with this plan set firmly in my head is when a light shines through the curtain over my window. It's not large, maybe an inch in diameter and it could be easily overlooked if it did not look so out of place in the darkened space of my bedroom, the only light previously being that of a small lamp that burns off of the last bit of paraffin my father purchased. I'd have to replace it soon, making my mission that much more important. The light from the lamp, though, did not reach the corner of the room in which that dot shone.

My bed creaks beneath me as I sit up, putting my book aside. I've no idea where this light is coming from and my heartbeat picks up with my ignorance. I glance at Prim, sound asleep in her bed across the room, undisturbed.

The floor, much like my bed, protests against my weight when I stand on it, my toes curling into my bare feet to hide from the cold. I pad over to the mysterious dot, keeping my tread as light as I possibly can as to not wake Prim. I crouch down onto the floor to get a closer look. Instead of simply being a dormant beam, like one from a flashlight, as I had previously thought, it shimmers, almost buzzing with liveliness. I cup the light in my hands and to my surprise, the beam of it stops shining, leaving just the spherical orb behind. The orb though, still shines as bright as it once had, even covering it with my hands cannot dim its light as it still shines brightly through the cracks of my fingers. Almost as if it's... "Has my very own star come to rescue me?" I whisper to it, almost afraid I might startle the fragile, tiny being.

I move to the window, my footsteps making the floorboards creak along with the pounding of my heart. I brush away the curtain, essentially just a scrap of old bedding from one of our beds. I can see exactly where the star fell from. There is a definite empty space in the mosaic of the night sky. I can tell because the space shimmers slightly before going dark with my star's absence.

"Thank you."

I find an old mason jar in the kitchen and gently put my precious star inside of it, screwing the top on as tightly as I can, guarding it. I bury it in the deepest corner of my closet to protect it from unwanted eyes and little, grubby fingers alike.

For the first night in a month, I'm able to sleep soundly again.

 

* * *

 

Prim wakes me by jumping on my bed the next morning with more energy than she’d shown in the past week. “Katniss!” She jostled me more when I didn’t respond. “Peeta’s here!” I groan, but the sound of his name makes me sit up.

The sky is a bluish, gray, the air thickening in preparation for the first snow when I opened the door. His hair is hidden under a faded yellow cap and his skin is pale, making the freckles on his nose stand out more than usual.

He smiles at me then pulls me into his arms. He’s been a lot more affectionate ever since the mine exploded which is a bit much considering he was never lacking in that department, but I can’t pretend as if I don’t appreciate it. Or just completely love it.

“I have good news for you,” he tells me and I invite him inside.

“What is it?”

“The people love bread!” He holds his arms out to his sides and the smile stretches wider across his face.

I stare at him for a minute. “And what does that mean for me exactly?”

“My dad wants to offer you a job.”

“Really?” I’m blown away. Mr. Mellark may be one of the nicest men on earth, but he wouldn’t offer me a job unless he could really afford it. Somehow it doesn’t seem like the bread industry could boom overnight, but then I remember the star hidden in my closet.

I mirror Peeta’s smile. “Is this real?” But before he can answer, I stretch up on my toes and place a kiss on his lips, but then I stumbled back, startled by my own actions.

He stares at me for a few seconds and doesn’t say anything. And it’s the longest five seconds of my life.

Eventually, the corner of his lip quirks up and he shakes his head slightly. “I thought Rye was lying.” Then he places his hands on my cheeks and pulls my face back up to his and he steals the breath from my lungs. My lips nestle against his and I don’t even mind that they are slightly chapped from the cold.

It seems like the star in my closet isn’t the only one I have been gifted with.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 7 of Prompts in Panem Farewell Tour. Come find me at electome.tumblr.com


End file.
